"It Gets Better". My story of bullying and its lessons

Can you imagine this kid being told he was an ugly half breed, a monkey in a zoo, a queer, laughed at and mocked daily?. There he is smiling at the camera. He is kind of sweet?. This kid was already aware of hate very early in life. It was directed at him and he learned to accept it. He did not know why he was its target, only that his existence inspired it.That kid is me.

I have been following the "It Gets Better" campaign and read of the tragic suicides of young gay teens unable to find hope in life as result of the bullying they suffered. I was watching 'Downton Abbey' episode 3, Season 1 and the cripple Mr.Bates says to The Housekeeper, " I promise I will never again try to 'kill' myself. I will spend my life happily as the butt of other peoples jokes and I will never mind."

That is what I said to myself as a child. I will learn to embrace being mocked, being told am nothing and being a joke. Does it kill your self worth? yes. If you environment tells you enough times you are nothing it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy. A child has no other perspective from which to argue otherwise. That requires time and experience.

I want to make this clear, I do not write this as a victim. I can look back and see the lessons this taught me. An iron will and backbone was well earned and I have it. 

The Housekeeper replies to Mr.Bates "We all carry scars Mr Bates inside and out .You are no different to the rest of us, remember that." And we do, you might not have been bullied at school, but something in life shattered your spirit. It is how we overcome that and remain open loving souls as result of it. I am no mans victim. No man has that power. It is always your choice to hand that over to another. And, I never have, or will.

I liken my experience of bullying to a lab animal that is electrified every time it repeats a behavior. Being bullied taught me never to reach out to people for love or affection, or to be accepted. I learned to do that from a great distance. 

My parents are amazingly loving and understanding spirits. I think it was hard for mother to acknowledge this was happening to her child. I became very withdrawn and hid under blankets drawing stories to myself. I loved tales of unicorns, 'Black Beauty' [a story about a horses trials and tribulations] and Hans Christian Anderson's 'The Little Mermaid' was a favorite. I think I identified with the mermaids plight. I connected to people through drawings, but not directly. The risk of pain was too great and I had to survive and find a place of joy as a child. I found it on a pin head. I thank God I was blessed with a creative imaginative gift.


I went to George Eliot Primary School in St John's Wood. At school it is hard to be close friends with an unpopular person.Those who try become targets. I know some people liked me at that time now, only that being at my side would put them in the line of fire. I accept that. A couple of them found me on Facebook. I was friendly with some girls, but they had their own groups to which as a boy I was not really a member. The boys were repulsed by me. I liked horses and was artistic, a sensitive type, which inevitably led to the fagot comments. I had no idea about being gay consciously at that time. And, yes,  just like those teen movies no one sat next to me on the school bus.


At some point it was thought best I go to Anna Freud Clinic to discuss my hiding under towels drawing, my obsession with mermaids and long hair. My mother had long waist length strawberry blond  hair. When she left me to go two work I drew her through out the day to remain close to her in spirit. Lonely kids do that.They make up a reality that is a happy balance for the one they live in.

My real escape from school was the cottage in Sussex. My parents have since retired there. We left London every school holiday. I was excited to get on the train at Victoria Station for Chichester. I would walk through the fields and beaches with my sister, dreaming of horses, mermaids and anything else that took our fancy. I felt free and unobserved. I felt very threatened if looked at. I never looked at someone as I could not handle the scornful looks that returned my gaze. I looked down. Do not forget that my parents interracial marriage produced its own source of public scrutiny. It was not as if they were spared that brand of prejudice. I felt safe with just my sister alone in the fields. I loved the ocean and imagined mermaids talking to me as I played by the shore.


I think the final blow came at the end of primary school. I would go on to Hampstead Comprehensive school. A week trip to the Isle of White was the traditional holiday to mark this transition. The whole school year would go. There was excitement as it was our first time traveling without family. I got into the spirit of the thing.That was not good for me to do as I was not a welcome part of the show in the first place. My experience about having expectations of others was to be hurt by them. I learned early to avoid having any. But, "illusions are by their nature sweet"(Marquise de Meurteuil from 'Dangerous Liaisons').


We arrived at the hotel and the teachers asked everyone to pick friends to share rooms. There I stood in the big lobby all expectations and sharing the excitement in the full glare of all being the one no one wanted to have share their room. I could not hide fro this public shaming. I had to own it right then and there. My heart burned so badly in my chest I can feel it as I write.The humiliation was complete. 

Let us be honest here for a moment, do any of you really want to remember being that kid?, if you were that kid?. There is a shame about it we run from in later life.We fear becoming that person again. Many gay people do just that. I decided to embrace that kid without shame and love him. That is why am writing this now.

So, I went to my room. A little room, a narrow bed, a desk, and a window. I heard the other kids laughing and planning night feast to which I would not be invited. I was never invited to parties anyway. I cried so hard that night. There was nothing left. I was empty.


I knew I had to go to down to the dining room for dinner. I stood up. I looked in the mirror and wiped away the tears. I was very aware of that alone feeling. I took a deep breath and said to myself that I was not going to show them my pain. I defiantly froze my heart,  fixed a firm smile on my face, I was resolute , I opened to door and went to dinner. I was ten and in that moment I created a public persona to shield the more sensitive kid inside. I kept it.


It is called survival. It made me strong. The idea of killing myself never really happened. I had little escapes from the over bearing pain public rejection creates. I got lost in art. The one thing I remember saying to myself was "there must be something special about me for all the negative attention I receive". I believed there was good in me, that no one paid any attention to. I was in the wrong package.

As a teenager I came to understand that I was not what people wanted to date, or be in
love with. It was spelled out to me by my peers that no one woke up saying they desired a freckled face mixed race gay guy who paints. I was told I should accept that all I could be to anyone was a wonderful friend. To assume I should have more would be laughable. Imagine that movie 'Carrie', if you know that movie, t sounds horrific but this is pretty much how I felt. So, I never dated, nor was ever  asked. I could never ask anyone out after being told this as the rejection would be too much. Did I want to die? yeah, sure.To be told all this was pretty soul destroying. Only that I wanted to kill the pain not my self. Yet, I never resorted to drugs, to alcohol, I never did anything to destroy me. Deep down I had a strength I did not yet own.

Years later, while living in Miami, I was walking out of the water in white bathing trunks and guy called Joe Lupo said," you look like an angel, you are beautiful". I turned around to see who he was talking to. To my surprise it was me. I had left Britain to seek a sense of home that I never felt there. It was the first time anyone had said anything that spontaneous and quite so beautiful.And, yes he is a Facebook friend seventeen years later. It was in Miami that the 'ice' over my heart began slowly to thaw.


I came into the world an open soul who loves people.That soul encountered their hate, prejudices, snobbery and I forgave them all. I would never give them power. I refused to fit in and suffered the consequences. I am as familiar with being alone as a hermit.This was then my foundation in childhood. I have wandered around the globe and lived in various countries and cities. None of them is home. I am my home. That is what bullying did. It caused me to rely on my own strength and not on others. It forced me to seek something deeper then human connections. It led to Faith, not in the traditional sense as defined by Christianity, but in broader more abstract concept of a souls journey.

A question that bullying caused me to ask is "Can I be loved?". I know am loved by my family. I feel surrounded by a love in the general sense. But, the damage bullying did was to leave  me very uncertain of this. I learned not to have expectations of being loved by one. I seek it. I fear it, and I still hear those voices in blue moments saying "no one will ever want you" to this day. It is hard to be vulnerable. But, it makes us human. This doubt is not unique either. It is hard to show weakness. But it is its also a strength, What helped me be the person I am today was the love and acceptance of my parents. That God gave me a strong heart, even if no one individual ever wants it, to love and forgive.


I love this line from 'The Color Purple'. You do not have to a be woman, black, or even ugly to understand this message because it speaks to our humanity. It is a rejection of a lifetime of negative images we carry around about ourselves given to us by either family, ex lovers, and society.

"I'm poor, black; I may even be ugly. But dear God! I'm here! I'm here!"


I hope you are

Peace.